


think i'm a little bit in love with you

by ikuyoo



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Drunken Confessions, Getting Together, Late Night Drives, M/M, They kiss!!, atsumu is a lightweight, i just wanted to write about idiots, kiyoomi thinks he's in love, yay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:16:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27665966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikuyoo/pseuds/ikuyoo
Summary: There is something in the way night blends into morning, in the way stars start to slowly fade out. When darkness bleeds into purples and pinks, into yellows, then into blues.There is also something in the way Kiyoomi watches Atsumu.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 17
Kudos: 312





	think i'm a little bit in love with you

**Author's Note:**

> kinda wrote this on a whim, so this might not be as eloquent (?) as i want it to be + i might have projected a little. also i think drunken confessions accompanied by late night drives are two of my favorite things ever and i’ve always wanted to write something like this for these two. i hope it’s okay, at least! 
> 
> title is from [little bit](https://open.spotify.com/track/0Ps4Eh6SQjeLnubbCsQTDD?si=Cn-GNRLiQqqM0dlxcH9VkA) by lykke li + the song i listened to repeatedly to get this out is [i'm tied, to you](https://open.spotify.com/track/0Ps4Eh6SQjeLnubbCsQTDD?si=Cn-GNRLiQqqM0dlxcH9VkA) by two people, enjoy ♡
> 
> lil warning by the way! there's mentions of alcohol but not excessive :D

“C’mon Tsum-Tsum! Another one!” Bokuto yells as he unsteadily bends over the low table to reach another shot glass filled with sake into Atsumu’s hands. Beside Atsumu, Kiyoomi leans further into the wall and just wishes it swallows him whole in the event that Bokuto miscalculates, spills the drink, and makes an absolute mess. 

Kiyoomi usually chooses to not join these post-win celebrations, but after their well-deserved victory against the Falcons today, he decides against the exhaustion taking over his body and lets himself get dragged to the team’s favorite izakaya in the city. 

He turns his head to the only other sober person (and tonight’s other designated driver), Meian, and gives him a crumpled expression. Meian sheepishly smiles and mouths a ‘Sorry’ before going back to his conversation with Inunaki and Adriah. Kiyoomi lets out a sigh and just watches the chaos unfold in front of him. 

Atsumu throws the shot back and slumps against the wall. The tips of his ears and cheeks are tinted pink, his tongue caught between teeth to suppress a smile. Kiyoomi grips his glass hard enough he thinks he could break it. Atsumu turns and meets Kiyoomi’s gaze, with a soft smile now grazing his features. Atsumu leans his head towards Kiyoomi while he just blinks at Atsumu wordlessly. 

“Not finishing that, Omi-kun?” Atsumu gestures to the half-filled, lukewarm, _sad_ glass of whisky in his hands. Melting ice making his drink more water than alcohol. 

Kiyoomi shrugs and rolls his eyes, “I’m driving tonight, Atsumu. Though I don’t expect you to remember...considering your state right now.” 

He eyes Atsumu’s flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes that are blinking at him slowly. He realizes he’s holding Atsumu’s gaze for too long so he turns his head back again and decides to watch the two idiots across him chugging their drinks down as a competition. 

An hour, a couple more sips of his completely diluted drink, and another session of watching his crazy friends take up dumb drinking contests (which were hilarious, but he won’t admit that out loud) later, Kiyoomi figures out that it’s time to head home. 

It’s a little unfortunate for him, however, because he remembers that Atsumu’s riding with him tonight since his apartment is closest to Kiyoomi’s. Usually Kiyoomi wouldn’t mind, Atsumu rides with him to and from their trainings all the time. But tonight he’s _partly unfortunate_ because Atsumu is— well, drunk and he’ll probably be more talkative than usual. 

“Atsumu, I swear to God. If you even think about throwing up in my car right now, I’m never driving your drunk ass home again.” Kiyoomi says, casting a side glance at Atsumu as he starts the car. 

Atsumu snorts. “I’m not _that_ smashed, Omi!” He says this while missing to grab the seat belt multiple times. After a few more tries, he finally buckles himself in and shoots Kiyoomi a smile and a thumbs up. 

“See?” 

Kiyoomi raises an eyebrow and just shakes his head before he reverses the car out from its parking space. 

It turns out Atsumu is _not_ more talkative when he’s got alcohol in his system. He’s a lot quieter in this state, with his head leaning on the window and just watching buildings pass them by. At a red light, Kiyoomi looks to his side and finds out Atsumu must have zoned out at some point. The streetlights slightly washes out Atsumu’s skin, but he looks softer this way— even beautiful. And Kiyoomi wants to reach out. He really could but—

The light turns green, so Kiyoomi commits this Atsumu to memory instead, looks back at the road, and drives. 

He drives in silence for a few more minutes until Atsumu stirs beside him.

“Hey, Omi-kun.” Atsumu starts, but Kiyoomi pretends he doesn’t hear him. 

“Omi-kun, Omi-Omi, Omiiiiii, Uni-kun” 

“What do you want?”

“‘S too early. I don’t wanna go home yet, bring us somewhere else.” 

See, it’s one thing to be stuck in a car with a demanding teammate, but another to be stuck in a car with a demanding and _drunk_ teammate. So fine, he could definitely use some air, too. 

Kiyoomi turns left, a street away from their apartment complex, and makes his way to a place that has become very familiar to him ever since he moved to Osaka to pursue volleyball for the rest of his life.

“If you say anything in the next five minutes, I’m going to make a U-turn and drive us back.” He mutters. He keeps his eyes on the road but hears Atsumu make a content sound in his throat. 

And if Kiyoomi, from the corner of his eye, notices a hint of Atsumu’s smile that fails to be hidden under the collar of his jacket, then that’s only for the both of them to know. 

Kiyoomi brings them to a park on top of a hill that overlooks the city. It’s a place he’s well-acquainted with, especially when he passes by it during his morning jogs daily. However, without the early chatter and laughter of young children on the swings and slides, it’s much quieter— more peaceful at this time. 

They both lean on the railing and watch the sleeping city. The weather is perfect for something like this. The moon is bright and the wind is nothing but a comfortable breeze. Atsumu’s eyes flutter shut, he breathes in, and lets out a long exhale. In the short time Atsumu has closed himself off from the world, Kiyoomi observes and realizes many things. 

“It’s pretty here.” Atsumu says.

(He realizes a little too much that it kind of scares him.)

Bleached locks that look softer under the moon. Pale light reflecting off the angles of his face. Eyelashes long enough to cast short shadows over his cheeks. Calloused fingertips loosely wrapped around the railing, but well taken care of— a symbol of Atsumu’s genuine love for volleyball. These things, Kiyoomi is aware of, but he can’t quite pinpoint where all of this started. Was it the back and forth bickering? The service ace competitions? The random interruptions during his interviews? The occasional hand sanitizer in Atsumu's back pocket? Was it all of those, and everything else in between? 

Kiyoomi blinks at Atsumu’s side profile and swallows the growing lump in his throat.

“Yeah, it is.”

And now that Kiyoomi’s made everything clear in his head, he has to say something now, right? He has to say something, because that’s the kind of person he is. He does not leave things half-baked—unfinished— even if at times it results in disappointment. All of these thoughts of Miya Atsumu is driving him crazy, really. So he’s going to talk eventually. 

But it’s odd. Because the moment Kiyoomi opens his mouth, Atsumu opens his eyes again and speaks. 

“I really like you, Omi,” Atsumu keeps his eyes on the city below them. “And I know I’m drunk and my mind is a little hazy, but I know what I’m saying. And I mean it.” 

Kiyoomi only registers _I really like you_ and _I mean it_ , the rest is static to him. Everything suddenly feels so overwhelming, his feelings intensify and flows through his veins. He’s aware of everything he feels at once, but he doesn’t notice how quiet it’s been until he blinks himself back to reality and realizes that Atsumu—blushing—is looking at him now, like he’s waiting for Kiyoomi to respond. 

“Since when?” He manages to let out, quietly. 

The corner of Atsumu’s mouth quirks up slightly, “Hm… Don’t know. A long time probably.” 

If this were any other situation, Kiyoomi would scrutinize what Atsumu means by _a long time_. But Kiyoomi’s thoughts are too muddled up to form proper words, so he responds in the vaguest way possible. 

“Oh, okay.”

“Yeah, I thought so.”

Ah, _fuck._ Atsumu thinks he got rejected. This isn’t turning the way Kiyoomi planned everything out in his head. “Wait, no— It’s not that I don’t…” He stammers, voice trailing out at the end. Atsumu turns his head once again to look at him and raises both eyebrows. 

“You gotta be clearer with me, Omi.” Atsumu chuckles and sluggishly gestures to his own face. “Hazy mind, remember?”

Atsumu walks forward and tilts his chin up, attempting to make up for the five-centimeter height difference between them. “It’s not that you don’t what, _Kiyoomi_?” He smirks as if he’s trying to break through Kiyoomi on purpose by using his given name instead of the nickname he’s so used to. 

_It’s working._

Kiyoomi narrows his eyes before focusing anywhere else but Atsumu. “You are such a jerk. I’m trying to think, okay?” 

Kiyoomi is not an affectionate person. Sure, he’s had a few relationships here and there during his years in university, but they never lasted long enough— just because. He makes sure the other party knows about these arrangements too. Kiyoomi’s a meticulous person, he’d rather not get into things that end up in shallow conflicts, so he makes sure to provide closure as soon as possible. He believes those times were just to deal with the random bouts of loneliness he felt throughout. 

Miya Atsumu is different. 

Kiyoomi has always gravitated towards Atsumu ever since he joined the team. That happens naturally when you’ve known someone for seven years and counting, right? He knows it’s the sense of familiarity that allows him to stick close to Atsumu as much as he can. What he doesn’t know, what he doesn’t realize up until tonight is this: Atsumu always stays. 

Kiyoomi could go on, but he really, really, really has to salvage what’s left of this moment now. 

“I, uh, like you too. I don’t know since when, why and how, either.” 

This is a half-lie. Kiyoomi does not know when he started seeing Atsumu differently, but he knows _why_ and _how,_ considering how much time he spent in his mind only for his confession to come out as...something that wouldn’t be ideal for other people. His nose scrunches up, trying to believe what he just said. Is this how confessions usually go? There’s a stark difference from the countless romance films Motoya has subjected him to. But then Kiyoomi remembers— _ah, this is me and Atsumu we’re talking about._

Atsumu’s eyes widen before returning to their normal state and he lets out a quiet laugh, just a short huff of air through his nose that’s barely audible. 

“Jeez, Omi. What a way to charm a guy.” 

“Like I said, jerk.” 

Atsumu steps even closer. While searching for any hints of reluctance on Kiyoomi’s face, he brings a hand up to cradle his cheek softly— delicately.

“This okay?” 

Kiyoomi acknowledges the light pressure pressed against the left side of his face. 

“Yes.” Kiyoomi breathes out. He lifts his left hand to loosely curl it around Atsumu’s wrist. He leans into Atsumu’s palm, embracing the affection and fondness that surrounds him all over. 

_It’s more than okay._

Atsumu lifts up his other hand to frame Kiyoomi’s face completely, his right thumb brushing across Kiyoomi’s bottom lip. Kiyoomi’s breath hitches and he knows Atsumu felt it, because he lifts up his head once again and looks into his eyes.

Atsumu brings his face close enough, almost touching Kiyoomi’s, but stops before they make contact. 

“Can I?”

Kiyoomi nods. 

This is Miya Atsumu—always going after what he wants—relentless, but never overstepping. 

Atsumu finally leans in and captures Kiyoomi’s lips in his, and Kiyoomi is warm all over. Atsumu moves a hand to Kiyoomi’s nape to angle their faces better. Kiyoomi tastes a bit of the alcohol left on Atsumu’s lips. It’s addicting, he admits. 

They kiss until Kiyoomi’s mind is filled with nothing but _Atsumu, Atsumu, Atsumu._ Every push and pull of lips against each other more overwhelming than the last. They finally pull away and Atsumu bows his head down to hide the smile that’s creeping across his face. Kiyoomi smiles down at him and plants one more kiss at the top of Atsumu’s head. 

Kiyoomi and Atsumu stay in the park longer than they need to. With Atsumu’s head now leaning against his right shoulder, the distance between them now nonexistent compared to when they first arrived. He relishes in this moment and basks in Atsumu’s comforting presence. He slings an arm over Atsumu and Atsumu takes his hand in his. 

“Hey Omi,” 

“Mhm?”

“I like you.” Atsumu looks straight ahead, but Kiyoomi can hear the smile in his voice. 

“I’m very much aware, Atsumu. You already said that a while ago.”

“Yeah, yeah I know. Just wanted to say it again. Gotta make sure I’m not dreaming and you don’t suddenly disappear, y’know.”

“Weirdo. I’m right here.” Kiyoomi squeezes Atsumu’s hand, not intending to let go for another while. 

He, too, would like to tell himself that this is real.

  
  


There is something in the way Atsumu makes Kiyoomi feel alive, like the way night blends into morning, the way stars start to slowly fade out as the sun rises. When darkness bleeds into purple and pinks, into yellows, then into blues. The way the change in hues reflects in Atsumu’s eyes. Warmth. It spreads throughout Kiyoomi’s body. It’s something he feels every time he’s with Atsumu, he notes. But tonight, there’s something different about it. 

Tonight, Kiyoomi learns that this is a long-running feeling finally acknowledged.

**Author's Note:**

> yea yea can i write? no idea but thanks for reading and come be my [friend](https://twitter.com/atsukiyos) anyway (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)


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